It may be said at once that the wager was never decided,
for the simple reason that when the time came Willie
refused all information—­including the fact
that his aunt had kissed him. Which is not, alas,
to say that his future references to her were to be
more respectful than formerly.

* * * * *

At three minutes before seven Macgregor stood outside
Miss Tod’s little shop, waiting for the departure
of a customer. It would be absurd to say that
his knees shook, but it is a fact that his spirit
trembled. Suspended from a finger of his left
hand was a small package of Christina’s favourite
sweets, which unconsciously he kept spinning all the
time. His right hand was chiefly occupied in
feeling for a pocket which no longer existed, and then
trying to look as if it had been doing something entirely
different. He wished the customer would ‘hurry
up’; yet when she emerged at last, he was not
ready. He was miserably, desperately afraid of
Christina’s smile, and just as miserably, desperately
desirous to see it again.

Solemnly seven began to toll from a church tower.
He pulled himself up. After all, why should
she laugh? And if she did—­well. .
. .

Bracing himself, he strode forward, grasped the rattling
handle and pushed. The little signal bell above
the door went off with a monstrous ‘ding’
that rang through his spine, and in a condition of
feverish moistness he entered, and, halting a pace
within, saw in blurred fashion, and seemingly at a
great distance, the loveliest thing he knew.

Christina did smile, but it was upon, not at, him.
And she said lightly, and by no means unkindly:

‘Hullo, Mac! . . . Ye’ve had yer
hair cut.’

From sheer relief after the long strain, something
was bound to give way. The string on his finger
snapped and the package, reaching the floor, gaily
exploded.

VI

MRS. McOSTRICH ENTERTAINS

‘I’m fed up wi’ pairties,’
was Macgregor’s ungracious response when informed
at home of the latest invitation. ’I dinna
ask for leave jist for to gang to a rotten pairty.’

‘Ay, ye’ve mair to dae wi’ yer leave,’
his father was beginning, with a wink, when his mother,
with something of her old asperity, said: